


i keep a close watch on this heart of mine

by vapid



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: #omihina, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post Timeskip, Sharing a Room, author apologizes for making sakusa kiyoomi an idiot, sakusa delivers monologues of his struggles in detail, the meteorite speech but 2.0, this was also very very self indulgent im sorry, this was probably funnier in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vapid/pseuds/vapid
Summary: How many times can a person drive Sakusa Kiyoomi crazy in a span of one day?With reference to Hinata Shoyo, three times. And counting.orSakusa has a top secret crush on his new teammate Hinata Shoyo, and his feelings only multiply (much to his horror) when the two are assigned to the same hotel room.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 48
Kudos: 761





	i keep a close watch on this heart of mine

**Author's Note:**

> sakuhina nation i come in peace,,,, i offer this fic to the sakuhina gods,,,,
> 
> i had written half of this fic already the day ch 394 dropped, so i had to rewrite parts to fit new canon scenes and newly introduced personality traits aaaaa also i faithfully stand by my headcanon that sakusa is a disaster gay and cant control his feelings no matter how great he is at controlling everything else around him :) this entire fic is basically just sakusa dealing (not so greatly) with his emotions
> 
> i hope you like it!!

Sakusa blinks, staring down at the new message on his phone. 

_\- Sakusa Kiyoomi, Hinata Shoyo_

If he blinks hard enough, maybe the reality laid out in front of him will change shape. Maybe he’ll manage to wake himself up from this all-too-realistic nightmare.

Sakusa closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling the clean scent emitting from the three diffusers located in different spots across the room. He stretches out his arms, welcoming the afternoon sunlight that filters through the blinds and lands softly on the floor. Right now, sitting in the middle of his bed with his eyes closed, Sakusa should be feeling 100% comfortable, unrestrained and unperturbed by anything outside of the private space that is his apartment. 

He should be feeling calm, collected. But the pounding in his heart says otherwise.

He’s being stupid. Of course he can’t warp reality with a blink of an eye. But just before Sakusa opens his eyes again, he can’t deny the existence of a very slight glimmer of hope in the farthest corner of his brain, hoping that when he opens his eyes again, there’d be a different name written next to his own. Anyone will do. Even Atsumu is fine! _Anyone_ will do. Anyone but _him_. 

Sakusa opens his eyes and blinks again.

 _Shit_.

There’s no doubt about it. On the announcement message sent by Meian, fourth down from the list of roommate pairings for next week’s two-day press conference slash fan event in Osaka, is Sakusa’s name. The black letters are clear as day against the light green LINE text bubble, staring cruelly up at Sakusa, mocking him.

But that’s not what’s important. 

What’s important is the name next to his. _Hinata Shoyo._

Sakusa groans, the sound breaking the tranquil silence of his apartment. Plopping down on his bed and facing the ceiling, Sakusa feels like throwing his phone out the window. And maybe himself too.

When it comes to Hinata, the calm and collected Sakusa is nowhere to be found. Sakusa just feels antsy 99% of the time when he’s around him, like there’s a ghost of an itch prickling on his skin. And he hates it. 

Okay. Sukusa isn’t so sure himself, but he thinks that he... _maybe_...possibly... _likes_ Hinata. And just the fact that he’s entertaining such a ludicrous thought is already making him want to dig a hole in the ground, disinfect it, climb into it, and never come back out ever again. 

If he had to condense his feelings, which are a big mess right now, into one sentence, Sakusa would say he has a love-hate relationship with the idea of having a crush on _Hinata_ , of all people. 

In other words, he absolutely hates the fact that he likes Hinata ( _MAYBE likes_ , he corrects himself mentally, with hard emphasis on the _maybe_ ). 

Sakusa is no stranger to hot-blooded players; he’s been around them all his life. And although he doesn’t show it outright, the same passion is there within him, in the shape of his desire for continuous improvement in order to see things right to the end. If we’re talking passion for volleyball, Sakusa is _definitely_ on par with those single-braincelled volleyball idiots. He is always aiming for the better, a die-hard perfectionist—and he’ll be damned if anyone even _tries_ to say that he’s losing to the likes of, say, Atsumu. 

Hinata is, of course, one of the said hot-blooded volleyball idiots. 

But there’s just something about this new Hinata that feels different. Sakusa had his doubts about him, of course, his only impression of Hinata being that one time during the 2013 Spring High National Tournament, when a feverish young boy had toppled over in the middle of a match. 

But his doubts were rendered moot. A few plays in, and Sakusa had immediately noticed the stark contrast between the 1st year Karasuno kid from back then, and the 22 year old new Black Jackals recruit standing before him. The difference was astounding. 

Maybe it’s the way this new Hinata carries himself: self-assertive, self-disciplined, worlds apart from any other player Sakusa has ever met. Even Wakatoshi-kun’s impressive routines pale just a little next to Hinata’s. Hinata’s known for the deep-set hunger that shines fiercely in his eyes, always yearning for something more, to become better; at the same time, he somehow manages to always maintain a freakish amount of self control, both in terms of his diet and his daily habits. Perfect equilibrium.

It’s this peculiarity of his; this hot-blooded, mercurial nature paired with exceptional skills of self care that are on par with his own, that undoubtedly piqued Sakusa's curiosity. 

But does this mean that Sakusa likes him? Like, _likes_ likes him?

For starters, Hinata is unpredictable. And Sakusa doesn’t like unpredictable. But for some reason, Sakusa is drawn to Hinata’s brand of unpredictability; he’s compelled to figure him out somehow, to get to the bottom of the mystery that is Hinata Shoyo. The more Sakusa attempts to piece him together, the more he finds himself never wanting to miss a single one of Hinata’s movements when he’s on the court.

Since the first week Hinata joined the team up until now, Sakusa’s eyes have been trailing subconsciously after him, and he found his attention constantly being pulled towards the shocks of orange hair and the smiles so bright he could feel his eyesight deteriorating. 

But this _still_ doesn’t prove that Sakusa likes him. 

It’s probably just the horrifyingly orange hair. At least, that’s what he’s going to keep telling himself. 

To be fair, Sakusa’s never really thought about liking someone in a romantic way, and most of the time he just says what he sees and what he feels about anything and everything.

He spends most of his time thinking about a varying number of external things (re: the patch of sweat on the court the rookie manager missed when mopping, or the perfect spot on the train where he’d come into the least contact with other passengers), with very little space in his head allocated for something as trivial as love—for unfamiliar emotions that taste foreign on his tongue. 

The comfort zone that is Sakusa’s apartment is starting to feel more stuffy than it is comfy and Sakusa’s left with his thoughts in a jumble, ringing louder than ever in his brain. Maybe it’s the hair. Or maybe it’s the hard reality of him having to share a room with Hinata looming menacingly over the horizon. 

Oh god.

_He’s going to share a room with Hinata._

  
  


__☀__

It’s half past 9 in the morning when Coach Foster and Meian gather the team together after checking in, the lobby of the hotel rather busy; families and hordes of tourist groups entering and exiting the row of restaurants to the left, couples and businessmen conversing in the lounge bar to the right. Sakusa feels his mood slipping already, the idea of having to walk past so many people just to get to the elevators on the opposite side of the lobby making his stomach coil. 

Meian is currently going through the schedule for the next two days: press conference at 11, dinner event with sponsors at 5:30, and afterwards free time for training or whatever they please. The fan event will be at 12 p.m. the next day, and they will be heading back to Tokyo around dinnertime. 

It’s going to be a long, _long_ two days.

“Okay, you guys’ll have until 10:30 to take a shower and change,” Meian addresses the players, warily eyeing a very excited Bokuto standing next to a grimacing Atsumu. “No funny business. Make sure to be at the lobby on time. Conference starts at 11 sharp.”

After they are each given their room keys, they take the elevator in groups to the 11th floor where their rooms will be. Sakusa winces at the prospect of having to be stuck in an enclosed space with so many people, who probably aren’t going to wash their hands after exiting the elevator. _Ugh_.

On the bright side (or is it the bright side?), unwashed hands, as scary as they sound, don’t even _compare_ to what Sakusa’s about to face at the end of this elevator ride. Out of the corner of his eye, Sakusa feels a pair of dark amber eyes piercing right through him. He has a very bad feeling.

“You look a little pale, Sakusa-san,” Hinata says in that aggravatingly earnest voice of his, staring up at Sakusa with a worried look on his face. “Are you feeling okay?” 

No, Sakusa is not feeling okay. He had spent a good amount of time on the bullet train thinking about how he should act after they reach the hotel, when he’s going to be spending time alone with Hinata. Alone, with Hinata. In a hotel room, with beds, with Hinata, _alone_. 

“Yeah,” Sakusa responds, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his MSBY jacket. He hates how his heart started hammering in his chest at the way Hinata wrinkles his nose in suspicion, apparently not buying his answer. He has an awfully cute nose. 

God, is he going to have to put up with this for another 24+ hours?

He must’ve hidden his inner turmoil pretty well, as Atsumu, standing on the opposite side of Hinata, grins and throws out one of his usual snarky remarks at him. “Ya got that constipated look on yer face as always, Omi-omi kun.”

Sakusa looks away, refusing to acknowledge Atsumu’s existence. Although Sakusa would never admit that he takes Atsumu’s insults to heart—because he never does anyway—these days he does feel a bit emotionally constipated, if that’s even a thing. 

//

“Woah, this room is awesome!” Hinata exclaims as he enters the brightly lit room, lugging his small suitcase behind him.

Sakusa follows suit, sniffing a little as he checks the air circulation in the room. The rooms are western style, and theirs is actually at the very end of the hallway, which means the windows stretch out a lot wider compared to the other rooms. Warm sunlight bounces off floor-to-ceiling windows that open up to a small balcony; the TV on the wall displays a welcome message, empty glasses glimmering on the coffee table in one corner of the room. Sakusa pads along the carpeted floors and reaches the nearer of the two beds, fingertips brushing across the soft cotton and polar fleece blankets, assessing the quality thoughtfully. 

Hmm, as expected of a 4-star hotel—

“Hey, Sakusa-san!”

Sakusa tries his best not to flinch at the sudden call of his name by a certain orange-haired someone, standing a mere three feet away from him. The situation sinks in in a matter of seconds and the proximity between him and Hinata proceeds to slap a reality check in Sakusa’s face. 

Oh. Right.

He’s alone with Hinata. For the first time ever. 

No rowdy teammates, no Atsumu-Bokuto-Hinata trio shenanigans, no managers, no Coach Foster and Meian watching over their every move. Just them. 

“What?” Sakusa’s voice comes out muffled against his mask, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the way Hinata is grinning. He looks annoyingly cute in his black hoodie hanging just above his thighs, with his hair slightly ruffled after snoring against the windowsill on the bullet train. Not that Sakusa was looking or anything. 

“I was just thinking, this is our first time being alone since I joined the team,” Hinata’s grin widens, hands balling into fists in front of his chest. “I’m so excited! We get to hang out a lot more than usual today!”

It’s as though Hinata just pulled out all the thoughts that Sakusa had forced into the depths of his brain, the words landing on the air between them. This is exactly it. This is _exactly_ what’s been on Sakusa’s mind for the past week: this will be their first time alone together. Just the two of them. 

“Okay…?” Sakusa replies steadily, his reaction speed stupidly slower than usual on this particularly fine day. “By hanging out you mean like, what, training and stuff?” 

Sakusa throws out a not-too-weird-for-teammates example of “hanging out” for good measure. 

“Oh! I mean, that too,” Hinata hums thoughtfully, plopping down onto the bed behind him. “I was thinking we could, I dunno, maybe grab some beers and just chill in the room later tonight.”

Alcohol sounds like a very bad idea. Sakusa doesn’t like this.

“We have a fan event tomorrow,” Sakusa reminds him, eyes narrowing. “We shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Aww, come on! One beer won’t hurt!” Hinata urges, leaning in and putting his puppy eyes to full force. Nice try, but that doesn’t work on Sakusa. 

Or, more accurately, it _shouldn’t_ work on Sakusa.

But it kind of does. Just a little bit.

“Besides, you always leave on time after practice and you don’t hang out with us afterwards,” Hinata continues, crossing his arms with a huff. “Building rapport is an important part of being in a team, you know!”

Sakusa can’t deny that. The Sakusa in the MSBY Black Jackals now is leagues apart (both figuratively and literally) from the Sakusa in the Itachiyama volleyball club. Volleyball _is_ his job, after all. And like most things in his life, he should always see it through properly. 

Sakusa exhales. Maybe Hinata has a point. One beer won’t kill him. 

“Tch, fine,” Sakusa gives in, albeit rather unwillingly. “Just tonight. For rapport-building purposes _only_.”

Hinata cheers out loud, a satisfied laugh ringing across the room. “Sakusa-san is finally loosening up! What a nice sight!”

“On second thought, zero beers tonight.” Sakusa quips flatly.

Sakusa stands up and walks over to his suitcase to prepare his personal set of toiletries for his bath, ignoring the indignant protests of _what the heck Sakusa-san! I was complimenting you!_ from a very riled up Hinata behind him. 

Sakusa detests sudden changes to his routine, but there’s an undeniable truth in Hinata’s words. It’s true that up until now, Sakusa has skipped all the post-practice izakaya hangouts, even the ones Meian had invited him to. 

Maybe he does need some loosening up. Everyone needs to at some point in their lives. But something tells Sakusa that “loosening up” as in, drinking alcohol in a dimly lit hotel room with the only person on this planet who’s able to make Sakusa feel all antsy, is a very, _very_ bad idea. 

Maybe he’s secretly psychic. 

  
  


__☀__

  
  


How many times can a person (namely, Hinata Shoyo) drive Sakusa Kiyoomi crazy in a span of one day?

Sakusa has a habit of keeping tabs on the people around him. He would know exactly when the last time Atsumu washed his hands was at whichever point in time during practice, and he could give out an immediate answer when Meian asked if the floors were cleaned once or twice already that day. Things like that.

Despite this, Sakusa has never kept tabs on himself. Why would he ever need to? He knows himself best and he always goes about his everyday routine like clockwork. All of his daily habits have long since become second nature to him. 

But, as most things in life are, there’s always a first for everything. 

**⇢ 1st time:** Hinata puts on a suit for the conference. Sakusa needs to lie down for a bit. 

Sakusa had called dibs on the bathroom; obviously because he wanted to be the first to use the bath, and also because if he'd taken any longer to wash off all the grime and germs accumulated from the bullet train, he might shrivel up and die. 

But on top of that, he needed the space to just get away from the ball of sunshine playing on his Switch right now in the room. 

Sakusa now stands in front of the fogged-up mirror, refreshed after his bath. He runs a hand through his cursed hair, all curly even wet, scowling at himself. He needs to get a grip or he won’t survive the rest of the day. 

Why is he even nervous, anyway? Sakusa hates himself. This is so unnecessary. 

So what if they’re sharing a room, about to spend an ungodly amount of time together at a very close proximity? With the addition of alcohol to the mix? It’s going to be fine. Sakusa’s dealt with worse things in his life. Like that one time he was assigned to sit next to the most unhygienic boy in class for half a semester in fourth grade, or when he found out his favorite brand of detergent was removed permanently from the shelves (he was devastated for about five months, give or take).

One whole day and one whole night with Hinata? It’ll be _fine_. 

The process of drying his hair and putting on his black suit flies by in a blur. Sakusa trudges out the bathroom frowning down at the bag in his hand filled with neatly folded dirty clothes, trying his best to avoid eye contact with the sun incarnated sitting on the bed. 

“Bath’s free,” Sakusa informs Hinata, wrapping the bag up and stuffing it into the cleared-out, square corner he had left open in his suitcase solely for this bag of used clothes. He ignores the excited _woah, this is kinda like playing tetris!_ from Hinata, who had caught sight of the very neat, square contents in his suitcase. 

“Hurry up and shower, you only have 15 minutes left,” Sakusa scolds, shooing away a very fascinated-looking Hinata from behind his back. 

In his mind, Sakusa juggles with the question on whether the distance he wants to have between him and Hinata is what he’d generally prefer for every single individual, or if it’s just Hinata he can’t stand being too close to.

Sakusa doesn’t dwell on the question. 

“Hey! You were the one who took so long in the bath, Sakusa-san!” Hinata grumbles in protest, pouting a little as he grabs his set of clothes before setting off for the bathroom. 

“Shut it,” Sakusa turns away, humiliation settling on his skin as he remembers the not-so-successful pep talk he gave himself in front of the mirror. No one needs to know about it. 

  
  


//

When Hinata reemerges from the bathroom, he is clad in a light grey suit, a light blue dress shirt fitted snugly against his well-defined chest and a hand fixing his dark blue tie. 

Sakusa chokes on air. It comes out as a dry cough. 

Hinata doesn’t seem to notice that it actually wasn’t a cough. “Is the air too dry, Sakusa-san? Want me to call and ask if they have humidifiers?” 

He looks concerned, one hand still adjusting his tie and the other already reaching for the phone sitting on top of the bedside drawers in between their beds. Stupid Hinata and his stupidly good observational skills. 

But that’s not the point right now.

Hinata is wearing a suit. 

“No, thank you,” Sakusa replies brusquely, turning away as quickly as he can to avoid having the menace that is Hinata Shoyo in a suit in his line of sight. 

This isn’t good. For some godforsaken reason, in all the time he’s had over the past week to dread staying in a hotel room with Hinata for this event, the fact that he will be seeing Hinata in a suit for the first time hadn’t even occurred to Sakusa _once_. 

Maybe he’s lost a considerable amount of braincells after joining the Black Jackals. He’s starting to regret his career choice. 

He’s only ever seen Hinata in the Black Jackals uniform, the Black Jackals tracksuit, the three hoodies that he alternates in between the week, and that stupid _oniku_ t-shirt. 

Hinata in formal wear is a bit too much for Sakusa to handle. He would like to think that he’s able to handle most of the things that come his way in life, but Sakusa has discovered today that one light grey suit is enough to send that long-held belief of his right out the window. He feels like he needs to lie down for a bit. 

Hinata’s voice appears from behind Sakusa, sounding very close. Too close. “You sure you don’t need one? I know your throat is rather sensitive.”

How the hell does _he_ know that?

“Yes, yes,” Sakusa leans away out of habit, hands shoving deep into the pockets of his dress pants. Also out of habit. “Stay away from me, please.”

“Oops, sorry,” Hinata pulls back, grinning sheepishly. 

Hinata in a suit is an absolute threat. Hinata in a suit while smiling brightly at Sakusa is double the threat. Sakusa’s scowl deepens.

“Whatever, let’s go,” Sakusa strides past Hinata and heads straight for the door, pulling out the key from the card holder before Hinata can even protest. “We can’t be late.”

The lights in the room darken within seconds, and he hears Hinata hurriedly scrambling after him. 

As the two of them descend down the hallway, Sakusa’s eye starts twitching a little at the prospect of having to sit through a conference (filled with people) and a dinner event (filled with people) before he even gets the chance to breathe properly. 

Standing in the elevator as they ride down to the lobby, for the first time, Sakusa is actually feeling eager to see his teammates. Seeing his teammates means he will be relieved of Hinata from his side. For the time being.

But after all their schedules are over and done with, it’s going to be him sitting through a night with Hinata Shoyo, alone together in a room and no one else around to save him from Hinata’s presence. He doesn’t remember ever feeling this anxious over something that shouldn’t even _make_ him this anxious to begin with. 

Sakusa may look fine on the outside (at least, he hopes he does), but the quick thrumming in his chest is weirding him out. He feels slightly feverish, and the collar of his dress shirt is poking into his neck uncomfortably. 

He’s going nuts. He's positive that he's going nuts.

And this is only the beginning. 

  
  


**⇢ 2nd time:** Hinata returns to the room after a swim with Bokuto and Atsumu, wearing his bathrobe dangerously loose. Sakusa’s brain short-circuits.

  
  


It’s a few minutes before 11 p.m. and Sakusa is stress cleaning. 

He had finished his training in the gym earlier than the others and had refused the offer from Inunaki-san to go swimming in the rooftop pool, to which the Atsumu-Bokuto-Hinata trio had agreed to in loud excitement. 

“Come on, Omi-omi! Just think of it as extra training!” Bokuto had tried to persuade Sakusa to come along, but Sakusa knows that there’s no way in hell that any sort of training is going to take place. 

Plus, Sakusa would really rather die than enter a body of water that could be filled with a bajillion unknown substances. He’s seen in the hotel brochure the exact kind of pool they have, and one look at the jacuzzi and the kiddie pool next to the main pool has Sakusa itching to take a shower. There could be spilled drinks. There could be pee. There could be anything. 

Maybe it’s because Sakusa couldn’t keep the terrifying thought of being in a public pool out of his head that he’s started to clean the entire hotel room, restlessly looking for any and all faults and blemishes. 

Or maybe it’s because it’s almost 11 p.m. and Hinata will be coming back to the room at any given moment, beers in his hand and that bright look of pure excitement shining in his eyes. 

Sakusa increases the strength in his arm as he vigorously rubs the mirror on the cabinet next to the coffee table, eyes narrowing at some specks of grime the housecleaning ladies probably missed the first time. 

Why is this so nerve-racking? Why can’t Sakusa calm down? He isn’t used to this. He isn’t—

 _Click_. 

Hinata walks in on Sakusa turning around to wipe the coffee table down, a bag of travel size disinfecting wipes in one hand. Sakusa freezes for a fraction of a second. Gulping down his heart that had reached his throat, he chooses to ignore the new presence in the room. He only looks up when he hears a tinkling laugh coming from the entrance.

“What?” Sakusa demands defensively, an automatic scowl settling on his face. 

He stills, the frown on his face faltering a little as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. 

Hinata is in a bathrobe, the shocks of orange hair on his head still slightly damp. His tanned skin glistens, the dim yellow lights of their room reflecting down on his skin and contrasting against the shadows from the inky mass of night sky behind the windows. 

His bathrobe hangs slightly below his knees, white sashes cinching his waist tightly, outlining the fine curve of his torso. And one look at Hinata’s soft, firm chest peeking out from behind his bathrobe has Sakusa feeling like he needs to leave the room and maybe go take a walk. 

“Nothing, ‘was just thinking that I should’ve expected to walk in and see Sakusa-san cleaning the room,” Hinata lets out another chuckle. As his eyes meet Sakusa’s he proceeds to lift up a plastic bag triumphantly, dangling it in his hand. “Let’s drink!”

Sakusa doesn’t reply, his hand gone numb from rubbing the table too hard. His brain has also gone numb trying to process Hinata in Bathrobe™.

“I’ll go take a quick shower, don’t get a head start on me!” Hinata says pointedly, dropping the plastic bag on top of the bedside drawer before rushing to the bathroom, leaving a stunned Sakusa still standing in front of the coffee table. The disinfecting wipe in his hand all dried up. 

God, what is _wrong_ with him? This is the second time already where Hinata appears in his line of vision and proceeds to take the air away from his lungs. Sakusa feels his heart pick up speed again; it’s a feeling that definitely _isn’t_ growing on him.

It’s not like he’s never seen Hinata shirtless. He’s seen it countless times before and after practice, in the locker room that’s being kept meticulously clean as requested by Sakusa himself. He’s never really noticed him because the locker room is always filled with his other teammates, and having a lot of half-naked men in his sight has probably desensitized him (much to his disdain). 

And thus reducing the impact of having Hinata standing before him with half his chest out. 

This is the logical way of thinking about it. 

Or maybe it’s just the way the bathrobe hangs loosely on Hinata’s shoulders and the way Hinata’s skin looks deliciously soft basked in mellow orange, looking refreshed as ever with a gleam in his eyes that makes Sakusa’s stomach churn a little.

Sakusa is positive he’s going crazy. The feeling from this morning comes back; a hotness seeping through his skin, his mind reeling. Everything feels uncomfortable, the only thing keeping him grounded is the familiar texture of the wipe in his hand. 

Everything feels uncomfortable but only because it’s all just so completely _foreign_ to him. 

For the first time, Sakusa feels naked in the face of the reality in front of him. He feels on edge, like there’s something he can’t put his finger on, that he can’t quite figure out, laid out bare before his eyes. Something is _there_ , but it’s invisible, impossible to grasp. 

Sakusa’s experiencing quite a lot of firsts today. An ominous voice in his mind tells Sakusa that this won’t be the last of it. 

  
  


**⇢ 3rd time:** tipsy Hinata becomes quieter, more subdued than usual. Sakusa melts into the bed. 

  
  


The digital clock reads 11:37. 

With enough alcohol in Sakusa’s system now, he feels the atmosphere of the room shifting slightly. He doesn’t really remember how time had flown by. 

Hinata had emerged from the shower, smelling very nice. Sakusa had mentally approved of the choice of shampoo the hotel provides. Hinata then beckoned Sakusa to sit next to him on his bed, to which he’d complied begrudgingly. Sakusa had tried very hard not to think about how close Hinata was as they clinked their beers.

Everything went alright for the first 20 minutes. Sakusa felt in control of things, for the most part. 

But when one beer becomes two and two becomes three, it's like a switch had been flipped. In an instant, a deeper, richer glow seems to permeate the room from all four corners, and Hinata’s laughter becomes giddier with each passing sip. 

Hinata’s face takes on a shade of light pink, his ears even more so. His smiles are softer now, ghosting across the curve of his lips. Something obscure dances in his amber eyes, and Sakusa feels the distance he had tried so, _so_ hard to maintain disappear, ever so slowly.

“Heh, you have such nice fingers, Sakusa-san,” Hinata’s voice cuts through the air, heavy as liquid, gazing down at Sakusa’s hand holding his third beer. 

Without warning, Hinata reaches out his free hand and starts caressing Sakusa’s index finger with his thumb, brushing downwards and dragging it gently across the back of Sakusa’s hand. He repeats the motion, slower this time, tracing the miniscule lines sprinkled along the crook of the thumb. 

For some reason, Sakusa doesn’t feel like stopping him from touching. Far from it, he almost sighs at the sensation, throat feeling restrained. Hinata’s touch leaves goosebumps on his skin, building a hunger in the pit of his stomach for something more. Although he relishes the gentle glide across his hand, a rational voice in the back of Sakusa’s slightly fuzzy brain urges him to not appear affected. 

It’s like a defense mechanism, of sorts.

Hinata’s smile widens at the way Sakusa’s hand trembles a little, as though he could see right through his act. Sakusa can feel eyes boring into the side of his head, but he doesn’t turn around; instead, he stares downwards at the carpeted floor, his vision blurring slightly. His mind is focused entirely on the slow, gentle massage on his hand. 

_Hinata_.

The beer sizzles in his veins and Sakusa feels all the shackles that had held his emotions back after all this time finally breaking off. There’s only one thing clear in his hazy mind right now and that’s Hinata’s hand brushing the side of his own—tender, featherlight. 

He likes Hinata. _He likes Hinata_.

The sudden admission blasting into his mind is like a splash of cold water in the face. It immediately sobers him up, and Sakusa finally registers the frantic pounding in his chest. 

Sakusa has always, _always_ been well prepared. Ready for any obstacle or challenge, big or small, that might come his way. Ready for both miracles and disasters (but mostly the latter) that could jump out from around the corner and change his life forever.

But right now, sitting on a soft bed with almost zero space in between him and the first person he has ever liked romantically in all 22 years of his existence, Sakusa has never felt more unprepared in his entire life. What will happen in the next five seconds? Five minutes? Five hours? The night is still so long; the possibilities are endless—

“Sakusa-san.”

He turns, and all of a sudden Hinata's face is centimeters from his.

His heart almost stops. 

Had it not been for the alcohol in his system, Sakusa’s instinctual reaction would be to jump 10 meters back, to move himself as far away as possible from anything that comes too close to his face. Or him in general.

But right now, Sakusa feels cemented to the ground. Hinata’s lips are so close Sakusa can feel them brushing against his own; a ghost of a touch, the air in between grappling for space. 

“Sakusa-san,” Hinata breathes out softly, the words dancing against Sakusa’s mouth. “Would you murder me if I kissed you right now?”

Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe it was the alcohol permeating his brain. Maybe it was the orange hair. 

If, in the faraway future, Sakusa were to look back on this particular moment in time, he would probably be able to come up with a hundred different reasons as to why his first reaction to Hinata’s question was: _no, I won’t murder you._

But right now, in this instant, Sakusa just can’t seem to find a reason. 

His body moves before his brain does and Sakusa’s mouth is on Hinata’s.

A muffled sound of surprise is quickly drowned out by a gasp. Sakusa’s lips press down against Hinata’s; rough, unsophisticated. Hinata’s hand tightens around Sakusa’s and he pulls Sakusa towards him, a newfound urgency in his kiss. Sakusa vaguely registers the taste of suntory, mixed in with something faintly pepperminty. 

The kiss is awkward, erratic, immature. Their teeth clash in some parts and Sakusa’s tongue flits curiously across the brim of Hinata’s mouth. And yet, like entering uncharted territory, the kiss is also hesitant. Both of them are unsure of how to move forward; but despite that, they don’t stop. They can’t seem to stop.

Sakusa breaks away first. 

They’re panting, the gasps for breath reverberating in the quiet room. Hinata slumps back against the bed, face beet red and arms out on both sides of his body for support. 

“What are _you_ looking so surprised for?” The question comes out rough, throaty. The words escaping from Sakusa’s mouth taste completely alien to him. He feels blood rushing to his head, adrenaline pumping in his veins. 

“N-no, I…” Hinata stumbles over his words, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t think you would agree. I thought you’d really murder me on the spot.”

Sakusa’s face burns. Of course he’d think that. And he’s right. Had Sakusa been in the right mind, he might have committed homicide just like that. Who would’ve thought that when it comes to love, his mouth tends to act quicker than his brain?

Love? Sakusa stills in his tracks. _Is this love?_

Sakusa is 100% sober right now. The abrupt makeout session had its merits, apparently.

“Uh, how was I even able to do anything when you were practically on top of me already?” Sakusa shoots back, whipping his head around to glower at Hinata. 

But looking at Hinata means looking at his face. And looking at his face, Sakusa can’t help but notice the shape of his lips, swollen red. Sakusa licks his own for reference and winces at how sensitive they’ve become, the unfamiliar sensation sending shocks down his throat and body. 

Sakusa jumps a little when Hinata suddenly sits up and kneels on the bed in Sakusa’s direction, chagrin blooming across his face to the tips of his ears. The bed sinks a little because of the newly adjusted weight.

“I’m sorry, Sakusa-san,” Hinata ducks his head in embarrassment, his voice ridiculously high. “I didn’t realize...how close I had leaned in…That wasn’t what I’d planned, y’know…”

_Planned?_

It takes a few seconds before the cogs in Sakusa’s brain finally start to work properly for the first time that night. What the hell does Hinata mean? 

“What do you mean, ‘planned’?” The question comes out sounding more like it’s part of an interrogation than anything. Sakusa feels his blood pressure rising.

He must have looked a lot angrier than he actually is, as he sees a visible chill run through Hinata and a sheepish look settling in on his face. 

“Ahh well, I mean, uh,” Hinata starts, removing his hands from his knees, an awkward glint in his eyes. “I think it’s pretty obvious what I mean, Sakusa-san.”

“Spell it out properly.” Sakusa turns and faces him, narrowing his eyes. 

Sakusa’s heart feels like it’s about to jump straight out of his chest and to be honest, a part of him actually _doesn’t_ want Hinata to spell it out. Because spelling it out means that Sakusa would also have to come face to face with his own feelings as well. 

And he hasn’t mentally prepared himself enough for that yet. 

Sakusa feels Hinata shifting around on his knees, eyes staring holes into the side of his torso. It feels like eons before Hinata speaks up again, and Sakusa starts at the unmistakable frankness in his voice, a slight hint of embarrassment tainting his tone.

“Well...I guess if you want me to start from the beginning...well, I basically planned all this,” Hinata gestures vaguely, waving an arm around the room. “The roommate pairing, the alcohol, everything.”

Sakusa blinks.

If he blinks hard enough, maybe he’d be able to warp reality. 

This feels like déjà vu. 

“What?”

“I’d overheard the captain talking about the press conference a few days before it was announced, and I’d heard it would be a two day trip down to Osaka,” Hinata begins, picking at a loose thread hanging on the side of his shirt.

“I was actually supposed to room with Bokuto-san, and you with Atsumu-san, but I managed to convince the captain to swap; I gave him the same excuse I used on you to get you to drink with me,” Hinata exhales, a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes. “All for building rapport.”

“But why?” Sakusa demands, voice coarse. The words that had come out of Hinata’s mouth sound more like a fever dream than anything. 

So all this time, including all the waking hours Sakusa had spent dreading this night over the past week and all his waking hours today where his mind had continuously gone off its usual track, Hinata had been the mastermind behind it all?

“You’re still asking why?” Hinata’s face breaks out into a full, cheeky grin, his posture relaxing a little. It’s as though some invisible weight finally lifted off from his shoulders. “You’re surprisingly dense, Sakusa-san.”

Sakusa scoffs at the sudden insult. “Shut up, I have reasons for my doubts. You should just spit it out while you’re at it.”

“Okay. I like you.”

Sakusa stills. 

To be fair, a part of him had figured out that much. He’s not stupid. Any reasonable person would’ve come to that conclusion after hearing all that. Any sort of shock or surprise from being on the receiving end of this sudden love confession is, in Sakusa’s opinion, entirely unwarranted. 

But tonight, with his reaction speed significantly slower than ever before, Sakusa isn’t as reasonable as he’d like to think he is.

The three words come in the form of a wave crashing down on him and once again, Sakusa is feeling helpless in the face of reality. This is real life. And Sakusa, who had always faced real life head-on without a sliver of doubt in his whole being, now feels completely unprepared, uneasy, unsure. These strange emotions whirl and twirl inside Sakusa, filling him up to the brim. 

“You like me?” He stares straight into Hinata’s eyes, and he feels his heart lurch in his chest at the way Hinata stares right back at him; his gaze strong, unwavering. 

“Yeah.” A single-word confirmation. No hesitation, no beating around the bush. “But don’t worry about it, Sakusa-san; you don’t have to give me an answer or anything.”

In some ways, Hinata is like Sakusa. He’s well-prepared, but at the same time he’s smart enough to know his limits. 

And yet, unlike Sakusa, Hinata is honest with himself and his feelings. Unlike Sakusa, who has only ever given his attention to the proper preparation and proper completion of things, Hinata is ready to confront the one thing more turbulent than fate itself: human emotion. 

Maybe a meteorite would come crashing down on the hotel right now, and then he would die in an instant. The Sakusa from the past wouldn’t think too much about it; who was he to tamper with the universe’s actions? As long as he continuously did what needed to be done, the end of the world could come at any given moment, and he would be okay.

But the Sakusa now, sitting silently in front of Hinata, his feelings still locked up in a safe somewhere inside him, isn’t so sure anymore.

Maybe a meteorite would come crashing down on the hotel right now, and then he would die in an instant—before he’d even get the chance to tell Hinata how he feels. 

Would Sakusa be okay with that?

A jolt of something shocks through him at the thought. 

Sakusa feels scared. On the one hand, he’s scared that the emotions he’s kept locked up deep inside him will end up escaping his mouth, coming out against his will. But beyond that, for the first time in his life, he feels scared of fate. 

Because fate could come peeping in from around the corner and change his life forever, without giving him enough time to say what’s been sitting at the tip of his tongue, at the edge of his heart. 

Fate is cruel like that, and Sakusa’s always known it, always accepted it as it is. But now, he wants nothing more than to race against time, and get the words out of his mouth before fate comes crashing through the window. 

So the question is this: would Sakusa _really_ be okay?

The answer is clear as day in his head. 

“I like you too.”

  
  


__☀__

The nights get chilly in Osaka.

Sakusa stares out into the night sky, breathing in the cool air and letting it flow through his lungs. He feels Hinata’s arm brush against his and exhales, feeling his mind clear out like the city skyline in front of him.

Looking back on the events that had happened throughout the day, Sakusa has a feeling he might have blown things way out of proportion.

Maybe it’s because Hinata’s the first person he has ever liked this much, to this extent. To the point where he didn’t know how to act in his own skin, feeling so overwhelmingly uncomfortable with the rush of emotions filling him up that it'd sent his mind reeling. 

But then again, maybe feeling like this is okay.

 _He’s in love with Hinata._

Admitting this doesn’t make him feel like he’s going out of his mind now. Not anymore. What Sakusa’s come to terms with is the fact that even when everything feels overwhelming, everything’s still going to be okay. 

That sometimes, it’s okay to let your emotions run astray for a bit.

“Hey Sakusa-san,” Hinata’s voice travels through the air and breaks through Sakusa’s thoughts, dissipating across the night. “Do I get to hold your hand now? You won’t murder me?”

Sakusa scoffs a little, staring down at the open palm of Hinata’s hand. He hesitates a bit before reaching out, intertwining their fingers together.

Their hands fit nicely together. The skin rough but warm; calloused but it feels just right. 

Sakusa mumbles a little, pulling Hinata in and pushing both their hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “This isn’t so bad.” 

Hinata laughs lightly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He says nothing as his thumb starts tracing circles on Sakusa’s hand again. The movement is lazy, his touch featherlight. 

This time, Sakusa allows himself to sigh contentedly into the touch. Unrestrained.

Sakusa is in love with Hinata. He feels his heart race when he’s close and feels it sink ever so little when he’s too far away, too out of his reach. He wants to touch him, to feel him against his skin, to savor the heat of his body. 

He wants to love him, even if he’s not that good at it. 

But Sakusa knows himself best. Even if he’s not that good at love, he knows he’ll get better, little by little.

Because, like all things in his life, he’s determined to see things properly to the very end.


End file.
